Beads & Bones
by psycochick32
Summary: A collection of Mir/San drabbles and one-shots, usually written for various LiveJournal contest communities
1. The First Step

Title: The First Step  
Author: psyco_chick32  
Rating: PG  
Genre: General  
Word Count: 475  
Summary: Each journey begins with a single step… or a new kosode…

Sango sighed – a heavy sigh, wistful and thankful and sorrowful all laced in one frustrated exhale of breath. This would be so much easier if she had Kagome here to help her…

"You look fine, my child," Kaede said gently from her spot near the fire. Sango flushed as she heard the men talking outside.

"Keh, I don't see the fuckin' point," InuYasha groused, obviously closest to the door.

"It's a new-" Miroku cut off as his soon-to-be-wife stepped out of the hut, eyes on the ground, hands nervously flatting the new material he had picked up for her. His eyes sparkled at the alluring blush; nearly the same shade as her new kosode, he noted amusedly.

Rin was the first to speak up, clapping excitedly, "Sango-sama looks like a lady!"

"Sango, my beloved… you look remarkable," Miroku said, taking her hand and lifting her chin with his other one.

"I still don't see the fuckin' point," InuYasha insisted. "It's a new kosode. So what?"

"You're so insensitive," Shippou muttered from the safety of Kohaku's shoulder.

Rin looked up at the kit, biting her lower lip in what seemed to be a perfect imitation of Kagome. Sango winced as she saw InuYasha clench his fists. "How is InuYasha-sama insensitive?" the little girl questioned. "Does a new kimono mean something important?" Her gaze fell on her youkai guardian, who stood passively in the shade. He'd been waiting a few days to make sure Rin was settled before taking off to do… whatever it was he did on his journeys.

Sango smiled at the girl. "This is a sign of looking to the future," she said gently. "Besides, this is the first gift m-my houshi-sama has given me."

"The first of many," Miroku promised quickly, visibly preening at Sango's claim.

Rin actually began to bounce. "Will Rin get pretty clothes from Sesshoumaru-sama when she becomes a lady?" InuYasha snorted into his hand, hiding his amusement.

Sango spoke up when it appeared Sesshoumaru didn't plan on answering the girl. "You'll probably get plenty of presents from suitors when you're older," she explained, chuckling inwardly at Sesshoumaru's poorly-muffled growl.

"Why clothes?" Rin asked, eyes sparkling with childish wonder, dreams of beautiful kimonos dancing so obviously through her head Sango wondered that she couldn't see the outfits in her eyes. She grinned at the girl's exuberance.

"Well, different people give different gifts for different things," she started.

Taking Sango's hand again, Miroku broke in. "Sango has lived the life of a taijya," he smiled, recalled his beloved's armor-clad form. "Now, she has a new kosode for a new life… one of a wife." He grinned, touching Sango's belly, "And eventually, a mother."

Miroku cringed, rubbing the new knot on his head ruefully.

"Things are changing, Houshi-sama," Sango said through clenched teeth as InuYasha and Shippou laughed, "but not _that _quickly."


	2. In A Flash

Title: In A Flash  
Author: psyco_chick32  
Rating: PG  
Genre: General/Introspection  
Word Count: 355

Universe: Canon, takes place during chapter 448, page 14  
Summary: Distrust, amusement, shame, gratitude, jealousy, concern: what takes precedence when one can hardly control their own thoughts?

Black, liquid shouki bleeding from his eyes like tainted tears…

Spider's legs of blemished skin curving over his chest to where his heart beats erratically…

Nothing Sango can do. No youkai to slay, no herbs to collect, no miko powers to fight the encroaching evil taking hold in her Houshi-sama's body.

Shouki rises in a cloud, collecting in clay hands and darkening the faux skin.

Kikyou answers Sango's question calmly, as though she expects it, "Houshi-dono's shouki transfers to me… and is purified within me."

Sango stares at the reanimated miko with emotions fighting for dominance in her mind.

_Distrust_ – this is the woman that lures InuYasha away when their group needs to be united as one… the reason Kagome cries and sighs and feels incompetent. She has threatened Kagome, has taken their jewel shards… jewel shards that later ended up in Naraku's possession.

_Amusement_ – Houshi-sama lies on the floor, half-undressed and under the caring hands of a woman. Though she fears the emotion may be the result of sleep-deprivation making her hysterical, Sango cannot help but wonder how he will react to know he was tended so gently, so… lovingly. It is a miko's power, to love, and he cannot be awake to enjoy it.

_Shame_ – She should not think such ridiculous thoughts; Houshi-sama is in pain, is suffering. She is strong and should not come to hysteria, even mentally. She should not think horrible thoughts about Kikyou-sama, who is doing everything in her power to help a man she has no real connection to.

_Gratitude_ – this is the woman who can save Houshi-sama, who is giving of herself to help another in need. This is the woman who travels with Kohaku, who protects his shard from being tainted and appears to be helping him find himself.

_Jealousy_ – this is the woman doing what Sango cannot. Sango is taijya, used to approaching issues head on. She is strong, she is independent… she is screaming on the inside louder with each passing hour Houshi-sama does not open his eyes, does not reach out to her.

_Concern_ rises above all the others. "Will you be alright?"


	3. It Burns

It Burns!

(Note: Set in the "Ride On!" universe, pre-story)

Miroku had been good _all_ day… and that was saying something, having wandered to the water park as a guide to two absolutely _beautiful_ ladies.

Kagome was built very well and filled out her emerald swimsuit perfectly. But Sango! _'Damn, the woman wears a suit well…'_ He mourned that she didn't take him up on his offer to pick her up a string bikini…

But still – an entire day. They were going on at least 10 hours of fun in the sun. All day, in a water park, following the droplets down tanned chests… hands clenched to keep from following them with his fingers. All day, standing behind them on the steps, just perfectly in eye-line with such beautifully built asses.

_All. Day._

He was in lecher _heaven_ and yet played the part of perfectly-raised gentleman. He thought he might die – but what a way to go. Within arm's reach of amazing bodies and unable to do anything without invoking the wrath of the one set of curves he truly wanted to know better.

It didn't seem to be doing anything for his reputation, though. His bronzed beauty continued to eye him suspiciously. She hadn't laid a finger on him, though, outside of clutching his arm on one of the slides. Who knew Sango could be afraid of heights without Kirara around?

Then _she_ walked by: a female panther youkai from a neighboring school. She was the head cheerleader, and no wonder why – busty and blonde, her looks had probably contributed to that position (_'And I bet her flexibility allows her to keep it,'_ Miroku thought with a lusty grin.) _'Wait… is that a tail?'_

Miroku straightened quickly at the sound of Sango clearing her throat and cringed. "Ah, Sango! Back so soon? Did you grab me that pop I asked for?"

Sango lifted her eyebrow as Kagome tapped her foot. "Can't go an entire day without checking out the ladies, can you, Miroku?"

Well, there was no sense denying it. "Are you jealous?" Somewhere, deep inside, he really, really wanted her to say 'yes'.

"In your dreams," Sango shot back, though Miroku hoped the pink on her cheeks was from embarrassment and not heat.

Miroku grinned. "No, my dear Sango. In my dreams, you're never jealous… but you're very naked, very horny, and-"

_SLAP!_

It would be fair to say Miroku screamed like a little girl, if not just a bit cruel.

It was only then he realized he'd never put on sunscreen.

A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on June 4, 2009

Word Count: 414 exactly

Prompt: "Heat"


	4. A Proper Burial

A Proper Burial

The sun was shining the day they found the armor and bones… so it was only fitting, Sango concluded, that storm clouds would threaten the evening they'd re-buried them.

'_Chichi-ue,'_ Sango looked up, the few evening stars being overtaken quickly. _'Are you watching over me right now? Are you disappointed in me? I've failed you in letting Kohaku escape…'_

A chilly wind blew from the north, ushering the clouds lower and caressing her skin, raising goose bumps. After a moment, heated arms circled around her from the side.

Sango hated the wind – it covered the sounds of somebody sneaking up on her. Kirara hadn't moved from her spot on Sango's shoulder, though, so there were only a few people it could be.

"Houshi-sama?" Her voice held a hint of warning, tempered by sorrow. This was not the time to be playing foolish hentai games, especially ones she didn't enjoy. Besides, her father's remains rested not a stone's throw away. It would be disrespectful.

"It's perfectly acceptable to mourn, Sango." Miroku brought his gloved hand up to her cheek, though when she peered over her shoulder, he was looking into the distance. "It honors your family that you are willing to let go."

As the rain began to fall, she couldn't help but lean back into his warm embrace – and then curse herself for it.

'_I am taijya. I am strong. I am in command of myself and my emotions.'_ Her bottom lip quivered as she eyed the graves – the newest ones darker than the others with fresh dirt. _'They died in battle; though they were slain by-'_

Sango diverted her thoughts – thinking of _him_ would only cause more pain.

'_Houshi-sama. Think of Houshi-sama.' _He'd been so… considerate. From the honor of carrying her comrades' remains in his kesa to acting the monk as they were buried, Sango had been impressed. He'd made no overtures to her body, no perverted comments. Sango had seen his spiritual powers in action, but she'd never seen him so solemn as when he helped her lay the remains to rest.

The distraction did not last long as she realized, _'My entire village lies here. All of them, except for me… and-'_ Even in the houshi's arms, she'd never felt so alone…

"We will destroy Naraku," he continued, as though he were reading her mind. "We will take vengeance for your village and your family."

Her shoulders shook. She never saw how his jaw hardened as he lowered his head to push her over the edge. "You will have Kohaku back, I promise you. Your family, your former life will not be forgotten."

'_Kohaku._' She turned and buried her face in his shoulder as the dam broke.

"It's just the rain," she insisted, her muffled voice cracking as she choked on the lump in her throat. "It's just the wind."

Miroku nodded against her temple and held her tight, saying a silent prayer that his promise would not be in vain.

A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on June 14, 2009

Word Count: 495

Prompt: "Rain"


	5. A Spring Afternoon

A Spring Afternoon

'It's finally spring!' Sango couldn't have been happier. She hated winter and always felt she was growing flabby with inactivity; as most youkai and mortals alike settled in for the frigid weather.

Everyone was ready to get back on the road, to hunt Naraku down for good; but today was a day for relaxation. It was Kagome's birthday, and she was on the other side of the well, spending it with her family and InuYasha.

Sango lay on her back on a hill next to Miroku, grinning at the puffy clouds. Sure, problems hung over them: Miroku's kazaana, Kohaku's memories, Kikyou's continued half-existence, Kagome's double life… but today, Sango couldn't bring herself to worry.

"A sword," she pointed out a katana-shaped cloud drifting across the sky. "And a neko-youkai, like Kirara."

Miroku chuckled at her enthusiasm. It wasn't common for the overly-serious taijya to throw off her troubles. He caught her grin as she turned to face him, looking so carefree. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Miroku hummed his agreement, focused only on Sango, as she continued pointing out shapes in the sky. She identified a heart and a bag like Kagome's before she realized Miroku wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to the clouds – he was staring at her.

"What?" He'd stared at her before… but not like this. This wasn't lecherous in the slightest. Sango felt a wave of self-consciousness. She knew she was acting childish, but it felt so freeing… But most men wanted a refined woman. Suddenly certain that was the problem, she quieted. "I'm sorry," she muttered, flushing lightly.

Miroku noticed the change immediately and rolled to his side, taking her hand in his. "What are you apologizing for? Buddha forbid you enjoy yourself once in a while," he teased, a bit nonplussed when she didn't respond. "Sango? Is something wrong?" He wondered if he had done anything to offend her… he hadn't even groped her yet!

"It's just- I know you- I'm-," Sango hated being flustered; she couldn't spit out a sentence and felt like a child all over again. "I should go," she finally decided, tugging at her hand to free it and stand.

He tugged back as understanding dawned, refusing to relinquish his grasp. "The day is beautiful," he repeated her comment from earlier. "Do you know what's most beautiful about today?" She shook her head, still not trusting her voice. "It's not the weather… it's you, Sango. The brightness of your smile eclipses a thousand suns."

Sango gasped. 'Could he really mean that?' The lecher was well-known for surrounding himself with beautiful women; she'd known since joining the group she couldn't compare…

'As beautiful as the sun?' She felt she should make a tactical retreat before making a fool of herself again… but felt a mischievous need to repay the compliment.

Bending over, she brushed her lips over his cheek, escaping his now limp grasp and jogging toward Kaede's hut – giggling happily at the dumbfounded look she'd left on Miroku's face.

A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on June 21, 2009

Word Count: 500

Prompt: "Sun"


	6. Gone With The Wind

Gone With The Wind

Since the moment she had met him, it had been a force to be reckoned with. Sheltered underneath cloth and beads, she wondered occasionally why the kazaana never sucked in the cloth. She understood the beads were holy (too bad they didn't come with a spell attached, like InuYasha's)… but the cloth?

Sango had a great many questions about the kazaana she asked herself in the dark of the night. Where did everything go once it was sucked in? Inside Miroku? The shouki marked him – why not the oni or trees or rocks? One night she stifled a somewhat hysterical giggle as she wondered: if he sucked up a seed and enough water, would it start to grow? Flowers growing from Miroku's dark head… the images amused her as the possibility frightened her.

Moments later, hot tears of shame had crawled down her cheeks. The kazaana was no laughing matter.

Sango never asked her questions… but she always wondered.

She told herself it was her warrior's upbringing: a need to understand potential foes… and promised husband or not, Houshi-sama was a force to be reckoned with. If not Houshi-sama himself, then the hole that held his right hand hostage.

Like Kohaku, Miroku, too, was held under Naraku's hold. Kohaku could be killed at any time by Naraku's whims… her fiancé could be just as unfortunate. Unlike Kohaku, though, her Houshi-sama would go out fighting. Of that, she was positive.

And unlike Kohaku – she knew she would never, ever recover if she lost Miroku.

OoO**OoO**OoO

Sango clung to him, still able to hear Kirara's anxious snarls, Shippou's helpless wails from beyond the barrier Kagome had unwillingly erected. Kagome sobbed soundlessly; there was no talking Sango out of this, even Miroku had been unable… InuYasha swore, loudly, watching on powerlessly. Even if it hadn't been his human night, he would have been unable to do anything but watch.

It was over in an inexplicable flash of light – the black hole burst.

All that remained was a crater…

As their friends were caressed by a dying gust of wind.

A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on June 27, 2009

Word Count: 345

Prompt: "Wind"


	7. To Prey Upon

To Prey Upon

Possessed.

What kind of taijiya lets herself get possessed?

One who let her guard down, that's the answer. Too angry at Houshi-sama's complete disregard for my feelings, so helplessly shouted at him in the depths of Mt. Hakurei; too frustrated at his attitude toward the women of the village when I had so obviously shared with him what he means to me.

I would have to talk to him about that later.

If we survived.

I forgot what father taught me – clear my mind of emotion, of extraneous thoughts when going into battle. Distractions can be deadly and were nearly so this time.

It was embarrassing. I was completely aware of my actions. I watched myself hurl Hiraikotsu at Houshi-sama (_embarrassing I did such a thing, though I was pleased to see the water didn't hinder my abilities_).

"Sango! I'm coming to save you right now!"

So he cared then? Where was his concern earlier? When he was flirting with the village women, when he was going off with them in the dead of night?

The only way I could describe it was that the youkai egg preyed on my emotions. Maybe my anger grew too strong for me to fight it.

Or maybe I was just that frustrated.

It was a glorious battle – Houshi-sama is no slouch, but he is more a sneak and a smooth-talker. He got in a lucky break, tripping me up with his staff, but it left him without a weapon.

I would have to talk to him about that later.

If he survived.

Unfortunately for Houshi-sama, his natural abilities and level of training has nothing on the rigorous testing of the taijiya village. His move may have cost me Hiraikotsu, but a warrior from my village always has more than one weapon on his or her person.

It was no different now.

I didn't want to draw blood. I wasn't that angry. Even if I was, even if I had been, it was dishonorable. He was only trying to help me, and I knew that. No taijiya should allow herself to fall under a youkai's spell, much less remain under it.

But I was only somewhat in control of myself, and the youkai in the egg had a very good sense of self-preservation.

I'll never know how he was able to retrieve his staff so quickly, but he parried well and we were on a similar level, my sword not being my strongest weapon. Again I found myself (embarrassingly!) on my back, my sword skittering away.

Hiraikotsu gone, sword out of reach… I still had weapons up my sleeve (literally). He _knew_ that, had seen them in action!

I would have to talk to him about that later.

If he survived.

Father would have been ashamed. The youkai, my skill in countering each of his moves – they made me cocky. Dodging a hasty blow, he grabbed my arm, spun me around and punched me in the stomach.

When I came to, he was bleeding from the arm. His cheek bled as well. He was scratched and bruised, not to mention soaked from taking off into the lake to rescue me.

I would have to talk to him about that later…

If only I could summon the courage.

A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on November 7, 2009

Word Count: 543

Prompt: "Possess"


	8. A Serendipitous Chance

A Serendipitous Chance

_If she hadn't seen Miroku with that woman… she never would have wandered off alone._

'I know better than that, damn it!' It shamed to her admit that she'd been taken down while on her own.

_If she hadn't wandered off alone, haunted by thoughts of what he'd be doing with that woman… she wouldn't have let those women pull her underwater._

She'd forgotten the number one rule of the taijya: know your surroundings.

_If she had not let those women pull her underwater… she wouldn't have been forced to swallow that egg._

'I was weak to give in.' Her stomach gave a lurch, 'And it tasted disgusting!'

_If she had not swallowed that egg… she would not have drawn blood on Houshi-sama._

'I could have killed him. And yet, he acted like he was frightened for me!'

_If she had not drawn blood on Houshi-sama… she would not have forced herself to apologize._

"If, when our battle with Naraku is over, the curse of my kazaana is broken and I'm still alive… when that time comes, would you live with me and bear my child?"

_If she had not forced herself to apologize… he might not have found the strength to ask her to marry him._

'I suppose seeing him go off with that woman was worth it. As long as he never does it again!'

A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on April 13, 2009

(just realized I never posted this to the archives! Whoops!)

Word Count: 227

Prompt: "Ripple"


	9. Blue Moons and Lavender Suns

Blue Moons and Lavender Suns

His head throbbed; every inch of his body felt as though it pounded in time with his heart.

'_What happened?'_

He could see the sky through cracks in the rubble above him – what may have been a window at one point, or a doorway or maybe a decorative arch… his mind was wandering, unable to focus on anything besides the pain of his body and the fact that no matter how much it hurt it suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't feel his legs…

The sky was brown, he noted, aware on some level that that was a strange phenomenon but not quite able to pin down _why_.

Miroku drifted.

oOoOo

He was bleeding. He could feel the trickle of blood coming down his forehead; he could almost see the coppery-brown stain on the front of his shirt.

He wondered if it were possible to get stuck in one position for life; if he made it out alive, he might never be able to move his head. It was pillowed at an awkward angle on what he believed had once been a wall. Or perhaps the floor he'd been standing quite solidly on before the Earth shifted beneath the building and sent him tumbling to the floor, blanketed by the floor above him.

The sky above Miroku was still tinted with dust and crushed plaster. The stars were dulled, flickering dimly like a candle in the wind. The full moon shone through the shadows, a grey-blue color that reminded him of his girlfriend's dented car.

He wondered if he'd ever kiss Sango again.

He never stopped to think she may have died in the quake. He refused to acknowledge the possibility. Sango was the strongest person he knew; if anybody could survive a natural disaster, it was her.

An aftershock rattled the skeleton of the building he lay in. Above him, something shifted and cracked the top of his head.

Miroku slipped into pained darkness.

oOoOo

Miroku awoke again; blessed numbness had set in and he knew he should be frightened but instead found himself accepting his fate.

He couldn't swallow, could hardly breathe for the dust that coated his throat. Coughing seemed to only bring up blood; there was no water to wash away the copper taste, as though he'd been buried alive with pennies in his mouth.

Something nearby was burning; the smoke clawed at his lungs and stole precious oxygen. The coughing finally subsided; feeling like a monster had clawed its way out his throat, he directed his gaze upward again.

The sky was pink. It couldn't be dusk or dawn; the sun was nearly above him and blinding in its dark intensity.

Like the moon hours ago, the sun echoed the oddly-colored sky, the usual gold-orange color scattering through the smoke to appear purple.

It was surreal.

Just days ago – was it days? Hours? How long had he been trapped? – he was laughing with Sango over dinner, joking bout their upcoming wedding and making bets over whether their friends would admit to their "secret" love affair. He'd hugged her close while dancing that night, telling her he'd never let her go, that he'd cross mountains and rivers and oceans if he had to in order to be with her…

And how thankful he was that he never had to.

He'd never said anything about clawing out of his own grave.

A voice! Rescuers? He shouted again, aware that his voice was reedy and choked by smoke and circumstance. They had to hear him…

An ill-timed shout found him choking on falling plaster.

Miroku coughed himself into oblivion.

oOoOo

Miroku awoke to the steady beep following his heartbeat; dry air irritated his nostrils and he realized belatedly that a tube was taped to his face.

Black strands of hair peeked out of blankets by his hip. He noticed the neck-brace just moments before sharp pain jolted down his spine.

Moving his head wasn't an option. He still couldn't feel his legs.

Somehow finding the strength, he reached out to the head cradled on his hip, instinctively knowing…

"You found me," Miroku whispered hoarsely. "How? It must have been nearly impossible."

Roused from her dozing, Sango blinked tears away from her eyes. "The rescuers said there was a 98-percent chance you wouldn't've survived," she whispered, just barely audible over the sound of hospital machinery. "But I promised," she told him.

"Promised what?" Speaking hurt. Then again, so did breathing deeply. Thinking. Blinking. He hurt and ached and wished for more blessed nothingness but couldn't let go until he knew…

"I promised I'd never let you go. I'd do anything and everything in my power to keep you with me…" Her breath hitched as he began to lose his battle with consciousness. "You can sleep," she assured. "But if you try to let go… just know, I'll follow you."

* * *

A/N:

I actually wrote and posted this the same day the earthquake hit Haiti. It's the scariest thing timing-wise that has ever happened in my writing "career" – and I decided to hold off posting it on the archives.

There is certainly no attempt here to capitalize on the sad fate of the Haitian people; my heart goes out to them.

Originally posted to LiveJournal on January 12, 2010

Word Count: 808

Prompt: "Blue Moon"


	10. Goodbyes

Goodbyes

The low, groaning sound sent shivers up and down Sango's spine. She backed away slowly, until her body was flush with the wall opposite the door.

'_It's not him,'_ she coached herself, clutching her gun like an alcoholic clings to a bottle. _'The Miroku you know and love is dead!'_

The truth wasn't any easier to swallow now (she chided herself for the bad, unintentional pun) than it was before, despite seeing him tear gruesomely into an innocent bystander. But it had been that sight that had galvanized her into action.

She loved him. She adored him – but this monster he'd become… if he were aware, he'd be begging for her to do what she had to. He'd hate knowing he was preying on people too stupid or slow to get away.

The attacks were violent, animalistic – and Miroku had been one of the first.

He'd been coming home late from work one night when the car hit an icy patch. The police told her he likely died on impact; there'd been little left for her to identify.

Literally.

When she'd made her way down to the morgue, Miroku's body had been missing. As had the person working on him… and the rest of the bodies brought in that night.

Nobody knew how.

Nobody knew why.

And anybody too curious to listen to common sense found themselves fallen, part of the ranks they once wished to study.

Sango used to joke about being trapped in a bad horror movie. Now she found herself in one, and she refused to go back on what she'd said at the time.

"_I wouldn't stick around! Sometimes you just have to know when to cut your losses!"_

She checked the gun again. It was loaded and ready.

"_I would do my best to help as many people as possible, then get the hell outta dodge. There's bravery… and then there's stupidity."_

The stench of death permeated everything, and Sango breathed as shallow as possible as a low groan rose up from behind the door. It rattled as the zombie threw itself against the wood – uncaring of anything but the warm flesh on the other side.

With a sigh – thankful that they had no children to witness this horrific night – Sango tugged on the string she'd tied to the lock.

Miroku's body lunged toward her.

She pulled the trigger. Again and again and again, until the gun was empty and Miroku was guaranteed to stay down.

"I love you," she whispered, shivering again. As she ran out toward her jeep, she shuddered…

as Miroku's dying groans echoed in her ears.


	11. The Morning After

The Morning After

Sango pushed through the crowded hallways Monday morning. Passing a group of gossiping cheerleaders, Sango held her head high - even when they started giggling.

_"Is she stupid? He's such a player; it's not like he'd settle down for _**_her_**_."_

Screw them. It wasn't like their opinions mattered.

_"I heard she caught them in the parking lot!"_

Suddenly, there he was - smiling, as if he hadn't broken her heart and she hadn't broken off their relationship.

_"Somebody said she wouldn't put out."_

Walking past him was the second-hardest thing she'd ever done.

She hated him for making her care.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters!

Originally posted to LiveJournal on December 14, 2010

Word Count: 100

Prompt: "Whisper"


	12. Focused

Focused

* * *

He watched the girl take measured steps to her small ship, wearing a wicked grin. It screamed of warning, of vengeance… of a destruction she couldn't wait to start.

While others backed away, Miroku stared. He couldn't help it; the look transformed her.

She'd crash-landed in the city park weeks ago, nearly mangled to death from the firefight that caused the engine failure. She was beautiful, even when broken.

The chip in her hand identified as the daughter of one of the most prominent bounty hunters in the galaxy… the man who led a colony of slayers, all killed in a vicious bombing. Sango appeared to be the lone survivor, having been on a hunt at the time.

"Naraku," she spat while healing. "I'll kill him."

'_Why would a man like that want to destroy the hunter colony?'_ Miroku wondered, not for the first time.

She didn't answer when he asked. She merely paid the credits to be put in the best pod money could buy and healed in record time – a mark of her altered blood; meanwhile, she ordered her ship be rebuilt to specifications provided by Kirara, the rocket's onboard computer.

Journalists flocked to the Med-Center. Politicians called at all hours of the day. She ignored all, eyes distant… focused on her revenge.

'_What a lonely life.'_

He watched her through the cockpit's darkened glass. She laughed, a slightly hysterical look to her face. She took off shortly after.

Miroku sighed.

He had a feeling she'd be back…

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters!

Originally posted to LiveJournal on January 14, 2011

Word Count: 250

Prompt: "Smile"


	13. Left Wanting

Left Wanting

Miroku sat, cuts and bruises bandaged and carefully tended by Kagome. Next to him, Sango refused to meet his eye. To say she was embarrassed by all that had happened would be an understatement - she never should have been in that position, and it really was not Miroku's fault, despite Kagome's claims to the contrary. She'd let her emotions get the better of her... a sign that her once rigid training was slipping.

As they fumbled through apologies, her heart thumped against her ribcage; the tension was like a fog around them.

But as Miroku eased into describing his feelings for her - a friend, a teammate... more, perhaps - a sense of dread settled upon Sango; certainly he wouldn't say what she thought he was going to... would he? After everything he'd done - his womanizing, her admittedly-shattered but once-determined focus on avenging her family...

"If, when our battle with Naraku is over, the curse of the kazaana is broken and I'm still alive, would you live with me and bear my child?"

A tear trickled down Sango's cheek. He would - he _did_, the accursed man that he was. So many emotions tore through her in that instant that she was speechless: excitement, pleasure, hope... frustration... and finally, rising above all, a cold rage.

'_If the curse is broken, if he's still alive... if, if, if... and not a single thought of-'_

"No."

The word was like a rock shattering a frozen pond, breaking the stillness and creating waves. Behind them, she could hear Kagome's gasp of shock, and InuYasha's muffled snicker.

With a shuddering sigh, she stood. The look in his eyes - hope had dampened into shocked pain - was too much for her to handle. "I- Hou- … Miroku," she amended, finally referring to him by his first name. This was no time to hide behind formalities. It was time to be frank, to face these feelings head on - to brave them, as a slayer facing down a demon.

And what a demon these emotions had, fighting tooth and claw to raise their head above the voice urging caution.

"I cannot, in all good faith, promise my hand to you." She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "My first loyalty is to my brother, to my slain family and colleagues, and to the vengeance they deserve."

Miroku's jaw flapped weakly as he struggled for something to say. Part of her was sorrowful; he'd been kind to her, supportive in the wake of her loss, and she never wished to cause him pain (outside of that small physical stinging he deserved for stepping over clear boundaries). Yet part of her gloried in his confusion, in how taken aback he was as being turned down when all the silly women of villages gone by swooned over his charms.

For the first time since joining the group, she'd made her own decision; it was empowering.

"I won't lie to you," she continued, steeling her resolve and meeting his gaze directly again. "I would love to contemplate what will happen when Naraku is slain. But until then... it's honorless to betray my people by agreeing to become a mere housewife, when there is so much more at stake."

Hearing Kagome's anxious twitterings in the bushes, and remembering the girl's words from the night before, Sango added, "And it's selfish of you to place the terms of a marriage on only your survival. If I die avenging my family, then so be it. While I certainly don't want to see you dead, the fact that you don't take my goals into account prove to me where your heart stands."

In the silence, she beckoned to Kirara, and walked to the tree near which Kagome and InuYasha hovered to grab her weapons.

"Now, are we going to stand her talking all day? Or are we going to continue our journey?"

A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on January 29, 2011

Word Count: 652

Prompt: "Second Best"


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